Madoka knelt in front of where Haruna sat quietly on the bed, using both of her hands to wrap a wet washcloth around Haruna’s injured hand. She grabbed onto the brunette’s hand with one of her hand before squeezing tightly, making sure the cloth was pressed as tightly as she could against Haruna’s hand. She expected the brunette to flinch from the pressure but Haruna did no such thing. She stayed stoic and silent, just as she had from the moment Madoka and Ken’ichi had forced their way into the room.
With her free hand, Madoka grabbed the second damp wash cloth she had sat on the carpeting next to her. She slowly swiped it across Haruna’s cheek, wiping away the small traces of blood left behind from Haruna’s tantrum. She smiled as she dropped the cloth to the floor again, searching for any signs of life in Haruna’s eyes. She almost felt satisfied when she didn’t see that life flurrying around in Haruna’s eyes anymore. It had taken so much fighting and so much time but Haruna was finally hers again. That was enough to give some satisfaction to Madoka.
“There. Now doesn’t that feel better, Haruru?” Madoka cooed to her softly. She lowered the washcloth away from the still silent brunette, allowing it to fall from her hand and back down to the carpeting below. She glanced back up at Haruna to see the teenager now looking down at her hands, one that laid on the bed she sat on and the other one still grasped in Madoka’s hand. She craned her neck down a bit, trying to look into Haruna’s eyes.
The older woman brought the washcloth way from Haruna’s injured hand, diverting her eyes down to the pale hand. Just let the washcloth fall to the carpeting alongside the previous one just before she raised her hands again. She gripped onto Haruna’s wrist using her other hand to lightly brush her fingertips over the self-inflicted crescent shaped wounds. Madoka could feel Haruna’s reaction as her body tensed and a sly smile came to her face. She knew she could get Haruna to react eventually.
The teenager, however, continued to bite her tongue. She refused to say a word to Madoka. Where would be the point? Everything she would say would just be wrong to the woman. Even if Haruna agreed with everything Madoka said, she knew her words would always be wrong and useless to her aunt. Haruna simply sat as still and silently as she could, refusing to fight back against Madoka anymore. She didn’t see the point or purpose of it. With every move she made, Madoka would always win. Madoka was always one step ahead of Haruna. Haruna simply didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter to her any longer.
Haruna was tired of fighting her.
For the first time since Madoka and Ken’ichi had forced their way into Haruna’s room, her eyes glanced up at her aunt as she saw the older woman rise from where she had previously been kneeling in front of Haruna. Madoka bent over momentarily, retrieving the washcloths from the floor. Haruna saw her aunt glance down at her only for a moment before she abruptly tossed the cloths at Haruna. The brunette was only barely able to catch them before they would have hit her directly in the face.
“Clean up your room and then come see us. You’ve got a lot of making up to do. If you’re good enough, we might just forgive you for the little temper tantrum.” Madoka’s voice was condescending enough that it twisted Haruna’s emotions. The brunette bit down on her lip again, feeling a bit of pain rush through her as her teeth sunk into the bite mark from her previous fit of biting down on her lip. She continued biting down on her lip, using the pain as a distraction from the emotions that twisted and tore at Haruna’s heart.
YOU ARE READING
She idolized them from afar. The entire gang was fearless and brave. She wanted to be like them. She wanted to be a part of them. But she would soon learn that being a delinquent girl is not what she thought. Warning: Fiction will contain violence a...